CAIRO: Staring down at her feet, Ajak Mauyok replied “yes” politely when I asked her if she spoke Arabic. Looking startled to have somebody approach her, the South Sudanese refugee, sitting on the metro, told me of the devastating discrimination she'd witnessed inside God's house. Before being forced to abandon her home and studies, 25-year old Ajak studied Computer Science at the University of Juba in South Sudan. While Ajak's father remained there, her mother, younger siblings and she had to leave the country because of the “very cruel conditions”. Unhappy in Egypt, Ajak told me she can't wait to go back home in December. “People here don't respect each other,” she said, adding that she'd been cursed and even physically harassed during her stay in the country, “I've had people throw rocks at me!” When asked whether she thought the harassment and mistreatment had anything to do with her personally, she replied, “No, I know it's not because I'm Sudanese – people here just don't like each other,” she said with a matter of fact tone as she nodded. Living in Maadi, Ajak told me about the discrimination she'd seen inside Al-Wataneya Church, where she prays with her family. “The rich people pray together, the poor people pray together, while the dark-skinned people, mostly refugees like my family, pray together,” Ajak saw the shock on my face as I heard this and smiled, then she added that each group has their different days of prayer based on their social status. Interrupting our conversation a woman in dark Niqab threw on each of our laps a white piece of paper that says this on it: “I'm a widow, and I'm asking for help to pay my monthly rent of 300 Egyptian pounds. I have three girls in different school years – one of them in junior high school. I ask you to help me with as little as the price of a loaf of bread.” BM
